


Haunted Soldier

by Vadianna



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: I crammed some feelings in there somewhere, I'm just a deviant, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reunion, Scars, Separation, come on it's me what do you expect, kylo ren is dirty and smells bad, not actually a statement about Kylo Ren's scar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 18:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10792221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vadianna/pseuds/Vadianna
Summary: After spending two years completing his training, Kylo Ren comes home to theFinalizer.  He has planned and plotted every instant of his reunion with Hux, and a large part of that centers on Hux's reactions to the scars he gained at Starkiller.Or: Rough sex on a big desk.Or: Overconfident Kylo Ren takes advantage of feelings.





	Haunted Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> As a warning, Kylo Ren's scars are pretty nasty, and Hux's fear and fetish are pretty insensitive.
> 
> The title comes from the novella _Lord John and the Haunted Soldier_ by Diana Gabaldon, which is a sensitive story of how the main character deals with serious injury and recovery.
> 
> This is not a sensitive story about how these two deal with serious injury and recovery. It is a little bit of scar fetish, though. Sorry.

It had been two years, and Kylo was free.

He had come back home to the _Finalizer_. He had not commed ahead of his arrival. His ship, his old _Upsilon_ , did not have a First Order ID, but it did have full clearance to land on any vessel he wished. So he flew it to the _Finalizer_ and landed it without speaking to the control staff.

He strode purposefully down the ramp and past four officers who had congregated in the hanger, standing shocked at his arrival. He had not previously possessed the skills or interest in making others comfortable with his presence, and two years of solitude hadn’t helped this. His eye quickly took in the faces and dismissed them. He recognized none. One bent to her datapad before he walked past.

He knew what she would do. The officer would send a message about a lone, unidentified human making an unauthorized stealth landing on the _Finalizer_. The visitor didn’t appear to be armed with a standard blaster, but may have some sort of weapon on his belt. The officer would ask how the visitor should be detained or neutralized.

The message could only go to one person. That person would know, or at least guess, the identity of the visitor. Unless technology had changed, or the First Order had fallen badly behind, there was only one way, one ship, that could land without permission on the _Finalizer_ , passing through the shields without triggering alarms.

The recipient of the message would suspect, but not know. Kylo spotted the comm terminal on the wall, and as he vaguely registered more officers and troopers congregating, he approached it and entered a query.

The query was for the location of the person he was here to see, the one who had received the message the officer had likely already sent out. He could hear someone speaking behind him, but he didn’t bother turning around.

The location of the individual in question was restricted, and few had security clearance. His code gave him access, but would also trigger a warning, tag him for a positive identity.

General Hux was where Kylo had left him two years ago, when he’d entered the hangar to depart for his training. Hux had not been present, and Kylo had entered the same access code into this terminal, sent the same query. The same result showed now: The General was in his private office.

The troopers formed up around him, creating a barrier. He wondered if Hux had responded to the officer’s message yet. Someone was still trying to talk to him, but Kylo had no patience, no attention, his mind already jumping ahead. He waved his hand, used the Force to brush the troopers out of the way. They were knocked down, but not injured. The gesture would be sufficient to identify himself. He did not look or speak as he left the hangar and began walking purposefully through the halls.

He skipped all the transports and lifts, preferring to walk the length of the ship under his own power. Hux knew he would be coming now.

He tried not to notice the officers that stopped in their tracks, the blank gazes of trooper helmets following him as he made his way through the ship. He hadn’t been the subject of scrutiny in a long time. When he had left, and before, his face had been covered. He was more confident now, and there was no reason to hide behind a mask anymore. They wouldn’t recognize him, but they would wonder, and remember Kylo Ren. He wondered how widely known the circumstances of his departure were. Common knowledge? Highly restricted?

Still, he knew what they were seeing, and this was the true test of its insignificance. He’d told himself it was, but he’d promptly forgotten, away from all eyes for so long. It had only stayed with him in regard to Hux.

He weighed the reactions in his mind. They were more horrified than before, more emphatic than the reactions to his old mask and helmet. The corner of his mouth twitched up, and he thought of Snoke. Perhaps there was something to that. He found he liked it.

Reaching his destination, he removed his gloves and slammed his hand into the scanner, the plasteel cold under his palm as it chimed and admitted him. He had considered using the Force, but he wanted to see if he was still authorized to enter the General’s own private office and quarters. He was. Good.

Hux had been warned of his presence and was expecting him, and he was much as Kylo remembered. He sat behind the same massive desk facing the door, his hands folded, framed by the transparisteel view of the stars and the verdant, curved surface of Tol Ossa. He wore the same plain black uniform, the black leather gloves. His hair was still in place, the same length and style, the same copper color framing a pale face that had likely last seen the sun on the surface of a planet with Kylo, years ago. He lacked his hat and greatcoat. All the better.

Kylo stopped in front of the desk, placing his palms on the edge and leaning forward. He registered small details: the slight sound of the door closing automatically behind him, the edge of the huge desk digging into the palm that lacked a glove. The room was slightly cold, and had the clean smell of the recycled air of the ship.

But it was Hux’s face that Kylo was interested in. Not just the reaction - he’d played this moment over and over in his head, and was giddy to find it unfolding before him - but just the details of his face that had stayed with him, haunted his training that had otherwise been faceless.

It was as Kylo had imagined. He could so rarely get Hux’s blank, expressionless mask to shatter involuntarily. He had hoped for it, gambled on it. There were ways to get here without the General knowing, but this moment was so much better precisely _because_  he’d given Hux time to prepare himself. He had gambled - it was possible that Hux would have kept the indifferent mask in place, and that would have been very disappointing. Kylo had hoped that just seeing him again would make up for it.

But this was exactly what he wanted. Despite his own preparations for this moment, knowing exactly how it would play out, he was not the practiced stoic that Hux was, and his breath left him in an involuntary shudder.

Hux’s pale eyebrows drew down and together, his lids with the nearly translucent eyelashes lowered over his blue eyes, tightening just so at the corners. His mouth drew down, and open, and slight color rose to his cheeks. He was horrified, repulsed. Better yet, the expression remained as they both drew a silent breath, then another, and another. His face was a riot of light and shadow, lit from below by the screens that made up the surface of the desk. Kylo knew his own would be similarly garish.

Kylo fought with himself for control, something that should have come easily. He’d trained, he’d overcome, and _he knew_  what was about to happen, had told himself about this time and time again.

But the having of it was unspeakable, it was _so much_  after years of nothing. A knee came up onto the desk, quickly, and he launched himself at Hux as he crawled across the surface, hearing the screens crack under his weight, registering the bright light going out in the periphery of his vision. Testament to his shock, Hux had no comment about this destruction.

“ _Hux_ ,” he breathed, and he hated the volume of his voice, the way it came out, the lack of control. But what control did he need here? Only that which he held over Hux, and he could see in the other man’s distraught gaze that he had it. Nothing else mattered.

He planted one of his boots on Hux’s chair, between the general’s legs, the other beneath him as he settled himself into a kneeling position. He grabbed Hux’s shoulder and brought their faces close together, level, close enough that Kylo could smell his aftershave and hair product and that Hux had eaten gola root for lunch. He pulled Hux’s chest against his knee, and could feel Hux shudder as he breathed in and out. He closed his eye, steadied himself, opened it again.

“You didn’t see me off.” As if it hadn’t been two years ago, as if no time at all had passed. For Kylo, it hadn’t, not really. He thought it might not have for Hux, either.

Hux reacted. His face folded in fury, and Kylo could feel the force of it washing over him like the sunlight he had missed for so long. He watched as Hux yanked his gloves off, discarded them on the floor, and brought one hand to the blind side of Kylo’s face.

“You witless bastard,” Hux hissed. “Why did you reject all the treatments I ordered?”

Kylo smiled with the good side of his face, the other pulling tightly. “You know why.”

Prior to his departure from the dead, subterranean place where he had completed his training, he had evaluated his appearance in the reflection of a deep pool.

The lightsaber wound he’d sustained on the day Starkiller Base had failed cut across his face, across the bridge of his nose, just under his eye, down his cheek and the side of his neck and onto his shoulder. It was wide and bright pink, the flesh shiny. It stood out in contrast to the gray, dead flesh surrounding it. He had known he was blind in that eye, and had studied the dead whiteness of it with a clinical fascination. He couldn’t feel anything there anymore, couldn’t move that side of his mouth, his cheek, could no longer blink. The scar had taken part of his eyebrow, and the skin sagged, paralyzed and unfeeling. When he smiled close-lipped with the other side of his face, the dead corner of his mouth pulled back, revealing the point of a canine. His dead eye pulled most of the way closed.

He had realized after arriving at the cave that his eye and the corner of his mouth leaked slightly on that side. He couldn’t feel any of it, and usually let it happen. He had remembered to wipe his face before Hux saw him.

He could see Hux’s hand moving on the other side of his face, but had only a slight sensation of pressure. His thumb traced underneath the scar, along his face and to his neck. Hux lost none of his fury as his fingers moved further down and hooked into Kylo’s collar, and he yanked Kylo into a violent kiss, full of teeth and tongue and a taste that Kylo had nearly forgotten. He closed his eye again and made a sound into Hux’s mouth as Hux fisted the high collar of his shirt. He could feel knuckles press into his windpipe. Hux pulled away, and Kylo tried to follow, but was stopped by the fist at his throat. He opened his eye and stared into Hux’s face, which was still furious, still far from his mask of control.

“Could you not find a comm in two years?”

“There was no tech.”

Hux made a noise of frustration, tightened his grip on Kylo’s collar. “Of course there wasn’t.” His lips thinned for a moment. “What is your current assignment?”

Kylo smiled, his face pulling, his good eye going half-lidded in pleasure. He had anticipated these questions, Hux’s way of asking after him. He shifted, putting his free arm across his knee and leaning into it, tightening his grip on Hux’s shoulder with the other.

“I make my own assignments. I do as I wish now.”

Hux’s eyes narrowed. “You always have.”

Kylo smiled wider. “I’m yours to command, General. Do with me as you wish.”

At that, Hux looked away briefly. Kylo tried to lean in, but was stopped by another sharp pull at his collar, a warning. This brought Hux’s gaze back to him, his mask of control back over his anger.

“I am not subject to your whims, and I am not an uninhibited animal. You can’t just…” Hux trailed off, his control slipping again, his face red. He looked away, letting go of Kylo’s collar and leaning back in his chair, gesturing between them.

Hux's awkward protests rang sweetly in Kylo's ears, and were exactly what he wanted. He used the foot between Hux’s legs to pull his wheeled chair closer to the desk, pressing his knee tight to Hux’s chest and bringing them together again.

” _Hux_.”

It sounded like begging, out loud. But Kylo knew it wasn’t that, precisely. He knew how Hux would react. He still had control.

Hux kept a blank expression on his face, which was still very red. He crossed his arms over his chest.

Kylo frowned. For the first time, it occurred to him that Hux may have his own version of their reunion, played over and over again in his head. Was this it? This was so much of what Kylo had envisioned. Hux’s reactions were perfect, were exactly him. But what would Hux want from this? Had he imagined it at all?

A chill went through him, at the thought that Hux hadn’t thought about this. He must have. Kylo gritted his teeth, and asked, though it wasn’t part of the script.

“What did you want?”

Hux’s lips thinned again, and he swallowed, the flexing of his pale throat mostly hidden by his high collar. Kylo’s hand slid from his shoulder to his collarbone, his thumb going to the hooked seam at the front of his uniform collar, stroking it slightly.

The tense silence from Hux spoke volumes. Hux wasn’t a man who gave himself this way. Kylo smiled his lopsided smile again. The silence, rather than conversation or denial, was the answer he had wanted.  Kylo filled it himself.

“I just wanted you. For two years, I thought about this.” He paused, bringing their faces close once more. Hux recoiled from his face, and Kylo smile broadened, was almost painful on the dead side. He made his voice low, nearly a whisper, and it threatened to break after nearly two years of not speaking. “You did not suffer alone. I came back as soon as I could. You know I did.”

He closed his eye again and intended another kiss, their lips so close. But instead, Hux reacted just as Kylo knew he would.

Hux shoved him backwards, and his leg went out from under him, his shoulders colliding hard with the surface of the desk. He heard the plasteel cracking again, saw more of the light from the screens go out.

He tipped his head up, and his shoulders fell back against the desk when Hux was there, hand on Kylo’s chest, his knee between Kylo’s legs in a reversal. He hung above Kylo, furious again.

“’As soon as you could,’” Hux mocked, in a low voice that mimicked Kylo’s accent. “Liar. You were not out of contact for two years, I know it. And you have the audacity to come back-” Hux cut himself off, shaking his head. Kylo could see him struggling with himself.

“I was not master of myself,” Kylo added softly, still playing Hux like an instrument, his words not forgetting the tune. “I needed to be sure I was before I returned.”

The admission nearly made him giddy. He was, he was, he was. His master was gone, and he would never have another, save Hux. But Hux wouldn’t understand that. It was news that could come later. Right now Kylo’s training was so long forgotten that he felt _so much_  spreading across his skin, through his body, felt the pull toward Hux, who was already so close.

Hux’s mouth pulled down. He pressed his weight into Kylo’s chest, and he leaned in closer, as if feeling the pull. He managed the thing he had been attempting before. Kylo had wondered if he could get it out. “You came back with my failure written _all over your face_.”

Kylo held in the derisive snort. _His_  failure. Even Hux’s selfishness was predictable.

Hux had a near-pathological fear of scarring. Kylo had once gotten him to admit that it stemmed from an uncle, injured during the fights against the Rebellion when the Empire fell. They had lacked proper medical and assistive tech in exile, and the uncle had a missing leg. He had a tendency to massage the stump and complain of phantom pain. He used a crutch, rather than an artificial limb. When Hux asked his father why a leg that wasn’t there still hurt, he had been told that the pain was a punishment for failure. Good soldiers did not fail in battle and advertise like that. It was a sign of weakness.

The punishment of phantom pain had haunted young Hux, and he had subsequently seen any type of battle wound as a sign of failure, and thus repellent. The _Finalizer_ , as a result, had the best medical tech in the First Order fleet. Any injured troops were given the utmost care, the very best and most realistic artificial limbs, synthi-skin to cover any sign of injury. Hux budgeted an absurd amount of money to take care of those who served him.

Looking into Hux’s red, overcome face, Kylo put one hand to the back of his neck, squeezing gently. With the other, he took the hand Hux had against the desktop, free since all his weight was bearing down on Kylo’s chest. He gently set it on the scarred side of his face, not near or around it, but directly on top, in a way that he knew Hux had been avoiding before. He watched as Hux closed his eyes and exhaled, shuddering.

“But I came back.”

And that was all it took. Hux came back to himself abruptly, as Kylo hoped he would. He took the hand from Kylo’s face and leaned back on his knees, hooking his fingers in his collar once again and pulling, tearing Kylo’s shirt, or what was left of it. It was worn thin, torn, too large for him, many of the seams already parted.

“You look like a primitive, scarred and in rags, as if you can’t take care of yourself.”

Kylo smiled again. “I can’t.”

Hux’s fury had abated to a mixture of annoyance and want, Kylo still felt the emotions from Hux _so much_ , so strongly.

“I can see that. You obviously can’t feed yourself, either.”

Kylo smirked and moved his good shoulder in an imitation of a shrug. He knew he was reduced. Much of the training had been deprivation, trusting the life-giving properties of the Force to keep him alive over nutrition. He was wasted, most of his former musculature atrophied.

“The training was mental, rather than physical. I had mastered the physical aspects.”

Hux raised his eyebrows, but did not take the bait to complement him. Kylo wanted it, hoping that that time would have made Hux more of an admirer of his body. Hux did not give complements freely, though. Maybe some other time.

“Have you been washed and dressed since the last time I did it for you?”

Kylo smiled wider, and he felt the pain of it again and didn’t care. “No. That was not part of the training.”

Hux growled, pulling the tattered remnants of Kylo’s shirt from underneath his back and off his arms to get a better look. “Of course it wasn’t. He put one fist into Kylo’s over-long hair and pulled, the other parting the ruined fabric further down Kylo’s abdomen. “You need a bath and a meal.”

Kylo exhaled, still knowing what to say. It was going so well. “I need you.”

Hux’s face once again showed anger at the tender words, and he pulled Kylo’s hair with one hand and tore open the rest of his shirt with the other. Then he gasped quietly, losing control again as his face fell in open-mouth shock. Kylo closed his eye, pleased with himself.

The bowcaster shot on Starkiller had opened him to his organs. That had been what nearly killed him. He had known it for a killing shot at the time, attempting to aggravate it and use it to build his rage in the lightsaber duel that had finally felled him. He had taken only minimal healing for this wound as well. His side had still been bleeding badly when he met with Snoke, and Snoke had given him only enough treatment to keep him alive. The wound had festered and cleared several times. His side had healed into a cratered concavity.

He knew Hux would be horrified.  
  
Hux had dropped his hair, and he felt the barest tingle of a touch on the dead nerves surrounding the wound. He opened his eye again and watched as Hux slowly mastered himself again, looking at Kylo with more fury.

“Failure is written all over your body.”

Kylo was still smiling, still relishing how _familiar_  Hux was. “I survived, and I came back to you.”

Hux huffed, and put his hand back in Kylo’s over-long hair, fingers fighting through the mat and tangles. He made a sound of disgust as he looked at it, then his eyes roved over Kylo’s chest, fingers moving to catalogue the myriad small scars that he’d had before. Blaster wounds, cuts, burns, any number of small marks a warrior carries on their body. Kylo loved them, saw each one as a badge, a hard fight he’d won and walked away from. There had been many. Hux had heard all the stories about them over the years.

Hux did not touch them directly, his fingers skirted each and every one of them. Hux never touched them of his own volition. But he did always look, with that expression of anger and mild disgust on his face. His indifference was now long forgotten, faced with Kylo’s bare chest after so long.

His eyes darted to Kylo’s face. “What do you want?”

Kylo rolled his hips, the beginnings of his erection finding friction against Hux’s thigh. “I did not wait two years to have you tear off my shirt and _be on my way_ , General. Don’t be coy.”

Hux looked away again, then back to Kylo. This time, Kylo wasn’t sure why he was hesitating. He had thought Hux would want this as much as he did. That Hux would also think about it constantly. He propped himself up on his elbows, trying to read the hesitation.

Hux’s hands fell away from Kylo, and he looked lost for a moment, kneeling on the desk above Kylo. Kylo’s gaze slid involuntarily away, catching briefly in the expanse of window behind Hux. Hux was framed in the expanse of space and in Tol Ossa, the terminus between day and night visible on the surface, marbled with blues and verdant green and a large gathering of clouds, a storm roiling across the surface.

His gaze found Hux’s face again, and he was still lost, incongruously, when the question was whether he wanted the pleasure of Kylo’s body. Kylo ached for him, suddenly, silence and misunderstanding falling between them.

Hux looked away again before answering. “I have nothing to…” he trailed off and gestured to Kylo’s chest, before looking back with purpose. “ _Aid_  this.”

Kylo was confused, but comprehension dawned with another wave of pleasure. He had been right. _He had been right_ , of course he had. But he wanted to draw this out, savor Hux’s embarrassment. He knew Hux could read the comprehension on his face, so rather than make Hux explain himself in more detail, he took another tack. He had imagined this scenario as well, and hoped it paid off.

“You mean you haven’t had another since I left?”

Hux’s tone sharpened with annoyance. “No, I did not waste my time.”

“Others are a waste of time?” Kylo _hmmmmm_ ed. “How unexpectedly sweet.”

Hux looked annoyed. “I am more reasonable when you’re not here.” But his expression clouded as another thought came to him. His hands came back to Kylo’s body, and his grip tightened in Kylo’s hair. Kylo arched his head back, exposing his neck. Hux leaned in closer. “I would expect your training was similarly _chaste_.”

Kylo could not help the smile that quirked the corner of his mouth. “You’ll find the _aid_  you were looking for in my left pocket.”

Hux exhaled sharply, and tightened his grip in Kylo’s hair until Kylo thought Hux might pull it out by the roots. His hand dived into Kylo’s pocket, seeking confirmation, finding it.

“Where did you get this?”

Kylo was silent, barely managing to keep his face straight, giving Hux a neutral look. He nearly writhed in the palpable, nearly physical sensation of Hux’s outrageous jealousy.

Hux shook Kylo by his hair, and Kylo made a noise of pain, arching his back into the sensation. “Answer me, or we will go no further.”

Kylo exhaled, and inhaled sharply. He thought about exercising his breathing. He had practiced for two years, and he could keep his excitement from Hux. But what was the point? He wanted this badly, and his self-control was fraying, though he still had a firm hand on Hux.

“Won’t we?”

The frustrated sound Hux made was nearly worth it. His hand left Kylo’s hair, and he had the belt from Kylo’s pants undone before Kylo knew he was at it.

His pants were the same wreck as his shirt, stiff with sweat and dust and minerals from the dark caves he’d been in. They were worn nearly through over his ass, had holes in the knees and calf, the cuffs and waist fraying, the belt loops long gone. After Hux yanked the belt and tossed it aside, his pants stood no chance in the face of Hux’s fury. Kylo had time to wonder, idly, what he would wear when he left the General’s quarters. Then he turned the uninjured side of his face into the smooth surface of the desktop, still warm from the monitors that had been in use. He hid his smile as he realized that Hux would simply order more clothes to his quarters for Kylo, dressing him without thinking, as he always had.

Hux slid off the desktop as he removed Kylo’s pants, then his mostly intact boots, tossing them away. Kylo wore no underwear, a habit Hux was well aware of, and he saw the flash on Hux’s face as Hux remembered, revealing Kylo’s bareness under his pants.

Once the pants were off, Hux was more gentle, positioning Kylo’s heels on the edge of the desk, crooking his knees and scrutinizing Kylo’s erection, parting his thighs.

“You smell as if you haven’t bathed in the last two years.”

“I haven’t.” That was true enough, water was in short supply. He paused for a moment, to get more of an effect out of what he was about to say.

“Are you imagining the smell of my other lovers?”

Hux’s fury was exquisite, his jealousy a thing to be savored. It was better, so much better than he could have hoped. Hux hooked his hands around Kylo’s thighs, sliding his body forward. The friction from the plasteel desktop burned, his skin making a loud squeaking sound as he slid. He was beginning to sweat against it, but not enough to ease his way. His skin caught along the cracks in the screen, he could feel it biting into his back.

He cried out as Hux pinched the skin just below his balls. He arched his back, and Hux took Kylo’s dick firmly in hand. Hux’s other hand found his chest again, pushing him back down into the desk. Hux leaned over him, still fully clothed save for his bare hands. Kylo turned and looked at him, admiring him. He was still perfectly orderly save for his face. His uniform, his bearing, the firm and almost painful grip on Kylo’s cock, all of it still under rigid control, save for his untidy emotions, and he knew Hux loathed him for it while enjoying the release.

Hux was the fixed point that Kylo had focused on for the duration of his training, the perfect order Kylo wanted to come home to. He felt his self-control slip, and nearly laughed aloud that Hux's pinch felt so much like a longed-for caress.

“You are _disgusting_ ,” Hux hissed. “You are _lucky_  I even deign to touch you.”

Hux moved his hand from Kylo’s chest and grabbed the bottle of lube from the desktop. He flipped the cap open with his thumb and deftly maneuvered the bottle and squeezed it into the palm of the same hand. He frowned, and his grip on Kylo’s dick relaxed slightly when the lube didn’t flow. Kylo frowned as well, and propped himself up on his elbows again, looking at the bottle.

Hux squeezed harder, and a more solid amount came out into his palm, not quite liquid. He looked, puzzled, at Kylo for a moment, and Kylo felt his face go red.

The bottle had been on his _Upsilon_ , probably left over from whenever the last time Hux had been aboard. It had clearly dried out since then. He wasn’t about to admit that aloud, though. He laid back. It would still do the job.

He watched between his knees as Hux’s gaze moved back down to the matter at hand. He saw Hux clench his hand around the lubricant, shifting to grip Kylo’s dick with his slick hand and moving his other to Kylo’s thigh.

He worked Kylo perfunctorily, businesslike. Kylo didn’t need the encouragement. In fact, it was difficult to keep himself calm even under Hux’s careless ministrations. He had rarely touched himself since parting from Hux. There was something depressing about masturbating and pretending at Hux’s touch. He told himself the real thing would be much better when he got it. And it was. Too much.

” _Hux_ ,” he said again, strained, a warning. His control slid further away, and this time he had ceded it to Hux. It wasn’t lost on the other man. Hux gave him a fierce look as he slid his fingers down to circle Kylo’s ass.

“Where have you been?” he asked mildly as he breached Kylo with the tip of his finger. Kylo groaned, tightening. Hux withdrew and tried again.

This was more difficult than he had thought, and he couldn’t relax. Arousal was overcoming him. He had not fingered himself at all, and he gasped, feeling the dampness where his skin sat on the smooth surface below him, arching once again into Hux’s touch, trying to calm his mind, calm his body, practice what had finally come so easily to him, the mastery of himself.

This made it easier, and he relaxed enough to let Hux’s finger slide in completely, told himself it was nothing when Hux withdrew and plunged in again, harder this time.

“I asked you a question.”

Kylo blinked, and looked at Hux again. Hux’s other hand was still wrapped around his thigh, closer to his knee. Kylo tried to answer while struggling to keep himself out of this moment enough for control, though he desperately wanted to be here, with Hux.

“Where have I been?”

“Do you have condoms in your pockets, too?” He punctuated this by thrusting harder, quirking his finger, and Kylo fell back, closing his eye again, struggling to relax, struggling for control. “Do I want to fuck you bare?” And at this, he touched Kylo’s prostate, and Kylo had to fight the urge to come undone, had to force the arousal back, had to make this last longer. “Should I worry at the filth of others on your unwashed thighs, who-” he pulled out, a second finger circling Kylo’s rim, his first finger pulling and stretching him wider, “-has been in here-” he thrust the tips of both fingers in, pulled one out, thrust the first finger in again, “after me?”

Kylo grit his teeth, and turned the good side of his face against the table again, showing only his scars to Hux. He fought against the answer Hux was attempting to wring from him.

When he was silent, he could feel Hux growing angrier. He worked both fingers in slowly, pulling them in and out, and Kylo fought his breathing, fought to relax, successfully pulled himself away again, even as Hux tried to twist a reaction from him, stroking him inside again and again.

Hux, not a gentle lover, and only became more aggressive as Kylo refused to answer. He could feel the ghost of Hux’s breath against his dick as Hux leaned down, forcing Kylo’s thigh back and up against Kylo’s side, stretching the muscles and tendons. Kylo moaned, and used the heel of his other leg to try and rub himself against Hux’s face.

“Absolutely _not._ ” He thrust hard with his fingers, pulling Kylo down to the table with his hand, and Kylo cried out again, allowing himself to at least be loud. Hux hooked his rim again, trying to stretch it out. “If you think I’m putting that filthy thing in contact with my lips,” he trailed off, pulling his fingers out again. “You are mistaken.”

He leaned away, removing his hands from Kylo. The loss of contact made Kylo’s breath come quicker, and he propped himself up again. Hux was standing, hands at his sides, his face a mask of indifference again, though Kylo could feel the anger and lust and frustration and longing. Framed again by the stars and the stormy green-and-blue planet in the expanse of window behind him, Kylo nearly lost himself in Hux before he remembered to speak.

” _Hux_ ,” and he stuttered, bereft of Hux’s touch, and he gave Hux what he wanted. “It was no one. There was no one.”

Hux smirked, and brought up the bottle of lube for Kylo to see, squeezing more into his hand. Kylo made an angry noise and laid back again. Hux had known how to wring the admission out of him, and he’d walked right into it. More control to Hux.

He felt the cold lube against his hole again, and Hux circling, stretching, teasing with two fingers. He wanted to fuck himself down onto them, wanted that and more, wanted Hux, wanted to come with Hux’s hand inside him. It would feel exquisite, with no contact on his dick. He could feel the pressure, the orgasm he was trying to stop. It was hard, so hard.

He laid his head back and stared at the dark ceiling, breathing hard, struggling with himself still. Hux could fuck him after he came. It would relax Kylo, make it easier. But it would give Hux something Kylo didn’t want him to have yet.

He cried out once again as Hux plunged three fingers in, pain and pleasure mixing. It was too fast, and not fast enough. Hux withdrew, and played with him with just the two fingers.

His other hand came up against Kylo’s side, and Kylo shifted, angling himself in Hux’s direction.

He was shocked when Hux bent down and began running his tongue along the scar in Kylo’s side, shifting his palm to lay across Kylo’s stomach, touch gentle even as he fucked him with three fingers again.

He’d learned of Hux’s aversion to scars almost as soon as he’d bared himself to the other man, admiring the revulsion on Hux’s face even as he was so clearly interested in Kylo’s physical attributes. The why had come later, but Kylo had understood well enough that Hux hated them.

And had understood almost as soon that when he made Hux touch them, there was a physical reaction that Kylo could not otherwise produce through sexual contact. If Hux was trying for endurance, nothing ended it faster than grabbing his hand and running it over one of Kylo’s larger scars. The man would shudder and come every single time. Kylo loved having that against Hux.

But Hux never did it on his own volition. His willing touch against the worst of Kylo’s injuries was a shock that Kylo was not prepared for.

“Why would you want this?” Hux asked quietly, laying his cheek against the wound in Kylo’s side. “It must pain you, even now.”

He could feel the pressure, but could only imagine the heat of Hux’s cheek, the feel of his breath across the skin. The finer sensations were lost to nerve damage. Kylo wanted to look down, and didn’t.

He was quiet, trying to find the words for Hux. To his surprise, Hux kept going. “You failed, that day. I failed. It…” He rolled his face, his nose pressing into Kylo’s skin. Kylo looked down at him again, over the rise and fall of his own chest, to the top of Hux’s still perfectly coiffed copper hair. The pace of Hux’s fingers had slowed, he was more gentle, pressing the third finger in, just the tips, working Kylo open.

Hux looked up, eyes unfocused, his hand sliding to the top of the scar to grip Kylo’s side again. “Starkiller failed.” He blinked, focusing and looking at Kylo again. “Must I see it every time I look at you?”

Kylo’s breath caught, and he couldn’t hold Hux’s gaze. Something in his chest tightened, then let go. He leaned back, closing his eye, rolling the scarred side of his face into the desktop this time. Sometimes Hux did surprise him.

“I survived. We both did. We’re here now.” He paused, swallowed. “Fuck me.” Low, barely there.

Hux exhaled, and Kylo felt him pull away, his fingers pull out. Kylo clenched around the sudden nothingness, but did not open his eye.

He felt Hux’s hands on his thighs again, one cool with lube, pushing his legs up, insistent. “Move back.” Sharp, an order. His hands dropped away as he gave it.

Kylo reached without looking and gripped the front edge of the desk in both hands, pulling himself across the surface once again. He was sweating, hot, his flesh wet against the warm surface of the desk, and his back slid freely now. He felt Hux climbing onto the desk, heard the screens crack under Hux’s weight. Kylo moved his arms, spread them wide, gripped the front edge of the desk harder.

He straightened his head and looked at Hux between his legs. Hux was kneeling, and had only loosened the front of his pants, opening the belt and fly, pulling his underwear down to free his generous erection, just as nice as when Kylo left it. He was slicking it, pumping it with one hand, just a few strokes. Kylo smiled, and moved his gaze back to Hux’s face, who was once again scowling, as if about a task he did not enjoy.

Hux grabbed his thighs again and positioned Kylo’s knees over his shoulders. “Pull yourself up.”

Kylo’s eye widened, and he felt the other side of his face tighten with the surprise. They had never done this before. Kylo obliged, pulling himself up and resting his weight on Hux’s shoulders, crossing his legs behind his back. Hux knelt back on his heels, and settled Kylo’s weight briefly in his lap, before sitting up on his knees and moving forward, gripping Kylo’s good hip with one hand, positioning himself with the other.

His angry gaze did not leave Kylo’s face as he guided himself in. Kylo felt the breach, the stretch, the burn as Hux entered him, and the disapproval as Hux looked at Kylo's injury.

When he was all in, he stopped, his slick hand going to Kylo’s damaged hip, gripping him gingerly just below the scar, putting Kylo off-balance. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other, waiting for the first move.

Kylo’s hand went automatically to Hux’s, wrapped around his unscarred hip. He took his hand, squeezing it for a moment before moving it to the damaged side of his face, his fingers between Hux’s as he guided their combined touch to his cheek.

Hux broke eye contact, shuddering as his palm came in contact with the lightsaber burn, the paralyzed muscles and slack flesh of Kylo’s face. He felt Hux pulse inside him, and Kylo tightened in response, closing his eye again.

“I survived,” he repeated. “That’s why I rejected the treatments. I survived, I became stronger. I want to remember. It made me more.”

He felt Hux’s thumb dip into his mouth and out, brushing along the corner, wiping at the dampness that Kylo could not feel before moving to do the same at the corner of his eye. Hux leaned down, pulling out almost completely, the position awkward as he captured Kylo’s lips briefly, fiercely. Kylo tasted him again, clenching around Hux inside him, relishing the contact. He gripped the front edge of the desk, bracing himself and exhaling. Hux pulled back just a bit, and Kylo opened his eye, their breaths mingling for a moment before Hux leaned up, relieving the awkward press of their bodies. He moved his hand further up Kylo’s injured hip, gripping it more surely, hoisting Kylo back into place as his own hips moved away, then back in a first, tentative thrust. His other hand remained on Kylo’s face, thumb near his dead eye, and Kylo rolled into the touch.

To Hux, wearing such wounds with pride was unknown. Kylo did not care what others thought of him, didn’t care that they would stare. What he'd told Hux was true. He had survived, and learned, and the wounds would make him more. Hux had never seen combat, his battle experience taking place on the bridge of ships, over comms, in sims, anywhere but the heat of battle. He was a master tactician, but he would never know the pride of coming away from a battle bearing a wound that should have been fatal, but wasn't. How surviving affected you. Hux would never admit it, and Kylo knew better than to affect his pride, but Hux was afraid of battle, afraid of failing, of coming away bearing scars and grief and regrets.

It didn't matter. Kylo could fight the battles for both of them, and wore the wound on his face to prove it.

Hux pulled out and in a few times, Kylo once again breathing hard, trying to relax and pull away lest the moment overwhelm him. Unexpectedly, Hux paused, his hand tightening on the side of Kylo’s face, his thumb going into his mouth again. He was breathing heavily, and even considering his arousal, Kylo was surprised. He had not exerted himself nearly enough to be so breathless.

Hux made a noise, pulling at the paralyzed side of Kylo’s mouth, exposing teeth. “I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Kylo’s eye shot open, and he showed his shock to Hux. It was unlike the other man to admit such a thing. His face showed Kylo nothing, and Kylo relaxed, thrusting his hips onto Hux, who grunted, then looked annoyed.

Kylo smiled. It had been hard for Hux, too.

“Fine. Finish, and we’ll try again later.” As if Kylo wasn’t relying on years of rigorous training to keep himself under control, as if Hux ripping his pants off hadn’t been enough to nearly make him come all over his own chest.

But Hux didn’t have to know that. He arched his back and squeezed his legs tighter across Hux’s shoulders, pulling himself up and Hux deep inside him as Hux thrust furiously, the first few strokes steady, but his rhythm fast and irregular after that. The flesh of Kylo’s back and shoulders slapped against the desktop, the screens cracking to pieces beneath him, and he tightened his grip on the edge, supporting some of his weight on his elbows.

Hux moved his hand from Kylo’s face to his erection, throbbing, aching, and Kylo grit his teeth and made an animal noise as Hux pumped him once, twice, and Kylo came, tightening on Hux, moaning long and loud, gripping the desk until his hands ached. He felt the hot wetness spread on his chest, and it felt like his heart stopped, his breath seized, and his mind fogged over, black, then red, then white. He relinquished all self-control, and let himself go in the moment. It was just as good as he’d hoped, as he’d imagined. He knew it would be.

A small part of his awareness felt Hux shudder and come, pumping his release inside Kylo, and he lost himself again.

Slowly, slowly, he let himself relax. His legs unclenched from Hux’s back and shoulders. Hux sat back onto his heels, pulling out of Kylo, and Kylo let himself sag into Hux’s lap. He smiled and rolled the good side of his face against the desktop again as he felt fluid leak from his ass onto Hux’s pristine uniform pants.

Hux made a disgusted noise, sliding off the desk. Kylo heard his boots hit the floor as he let his legs dangle from the other edge of the desk, his ass continuing to leak onto the broken surface.

“You’re an insufferable mess.”

Kylo was too tired to lean up and look. “Is this what you pictured? When you thought about me coming back?”

Hux was quiet, and Kylo heard the sounds of fabric. He wondered if Hux was undressing.

“It’s what I imagined,” he tried into the silence.

“Getting fucked across my desk?”

“Mmmm.” He rolled onto his side. “Something like that.”

He heard Hux make a sound of dismay as he revealed more of the destroyed screens and what was likely the bloody ruin of his back. He had felt the cracked plasteel rubbing his shoulders raw.

“No, I did not imagine ruining my desk to have you. I should have known better.” Hux slapped his ass, and Kylo gasped in surprise, rolling back onto his back and looking at Hux in annoyance. Hux was flushed red down to his chest, but otherwise he was just as pristine naked as he was in uniform, his skin unblemished save for the dusting of freckles across his shoulders and chest. His hair product had withstood the sex, and he remained perfectly coiffed.

“Up. You’re taking a shower. I’m shaving your head and burning your clothes.”

It was as if no time had passed at all, and Kylo _hmmmm_ ed again as he let the two years of separation fall away between them. It was good to be home again.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [@vadianna](http://vadianna.tumblr.com)


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